Mommy's Boy
by mse924
Summary: Fluffy one-shots about the Puckleberry family
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Fluffy fluff fluff here. Just a fun little one-off I cranked out while I'm locked in my house, refusing to go out into the sub-zero temperatures. As always, nothing belongs to me except the story.**

* * *

Sliding on her heels and grabbing her bag from the hall closet, Rachel followed the sound of laughter into the living room to say goodbye to her boys. She really didn't feel like going out into the rain on a Saturday morning, but she had a matinee performance and didn't really have a choice.

The sight as she entered the room caused her to stop abruptly. Puck sat cross-legged on the floor, wearing flannel pajama pants and a t-shirt and strumming the guitar in his lap. Sitting across from him was their three year old son David, still wearing his footie-pajamas and lovingly cradling the tiny guitar they had purchased for his birthday. Every so often, Puck would lean over and move David's tiny fingers to form a new chord before encouraging him to strum along. One of his favorite phrases once he started talking was "Daddy play!" And Puck always indulged him, no matter what. Even at 9:00 on a Saturday morning.

David's dark curls fell down over his forehead and the tip of his tongue stuck out of the corner of his mouth as he struggled to mirror the actions of the man sitting across from him. The familiar look of intense concentration and determination that was etched across his face caused Rachel to laugh out loud.

"Mommy!" David tossed the tiny guitar to the side as he launched himself at Rachel. Puck grimaced at the sound the instrument made as it hit the floor and reached over to pick up the instrument and lean it up against the couch. He had insisted on buying the most expensive child's guitar the music store had, despite Rachel's protests. _If our kid is going to be a rock star, babe, he needs the best guitar._

"Mommy, did you hear me playing? Did I sound good? Daddy says that if I keep practicing I can have a band and then lots of pretty girls will come watch me play and when I have a band I can cut my hair funny and have a mole-hawk and..."

"Davey" Puck cut in. "It's called a mohawk buddy. And I thought that was going to be our little secret."

"But it's Mommy. We don't keep secrets from Mommy."

Puck quirked his eyebrow up at Rachel. "Seriously babe?"

"Noah, I can't help the fact that I have an open and honest relationship with our son."

"Rach, he's three. You could tell him that you're a princess and he'd believe you."

David glared up at him. "Mommy is a princess. She's pretty and she sings and she told me that she had to kiss a lot of frogs before she found her prince."

Now it was Rachel's turn to be embarrassed. "Okay sweetheart, I think that's enough honesty for one day. Mommy will see you tonight." Rachel scooped her little boy into her arms and smothered his face in kisses before setting him back on the floor.

Puck grabbed Rachel around the waist and walked with her to the front door, letting go only long enough to let her slip her jacket on.

"Noah?" Rachel twisted away from Puck as latched back on to her and peppered kisses up and down her neck.

"Yeah babe?"

"If I ever come home to find my son with that ridiculous haircut that you're so fond of, you will be sleeping on the couch for a very long time."

"Yes dear." Puck kissed her on the cheek and ushered her out of the house.

The second the front door closed, Puck turned to look at the little boy looking expectantly up at him.

"Come on little dude. Let's go see if we can give you an afro."


	2. Chapter 2

****

**A/N: Mommy's Boy was originally supposed to be a one-shot, but I had a few requests for a follow-up, so here you go! Besides, it's Super Bowl Sunday-how can I not write something football related? :) **

**

* * *

**

Rachel Berry-Puckerman really could care less about football. She never really went to the games at McKinley and NYU didn't have a team, so she had never really developed any sort of interest in the sport. Not to mention the fact that she found the sport rather violent and too slow-paced for her liking. However, her husband Noah was a sports addict. Rachel generally humored his obsession, but occasionally had to draw the line (like when he spent a solid month of her pregnancy trying to convince her that they should name their unborn son Water Payton Puckerman).

This year, the fact that the Chicago Bears had made it to the Super Bowl took Puck's obsession to a completely new level. He insisted on having Mike and Quinn over to watch the game and even convinced Rachel to decorate their house with blue and orange streamers and to change her cell phone's ringtone to the Bear's fight song.

Rachel had suffered through the first half of the game before escaping with Quinn to the kitchen to get more beverages. The sounds of three male voices (two adults and one well-spoken three year old) drifted from the living room. "Blue 42! Blue 42! Hut, hut, hike!"

"You're aware that they are now playing football in your living room right?" Quinn sipped from her water glass as her free hand rested on her pregnant stomach. "That's not going to end well."

"Trust me, I know" Rachel popped the tops off 3 bottles of beer and snapped the lid back on David's sippy cup full of juice. "I already had to sit down with both of them this morning and issue a ban on any sort of throwing of the football in the house. Noah was convinced that practicing passing drills in David's bedroom was a perfectly okay idea."

Quinn rolled her eyes. "Thank God I'm having a girl. I seriously don't know how you deal with it. It's like you have two sons."

"It's like having three when Mike's here" Rachel laughed.

"He's all yours if you want him. I'll have the adoption papers sent over in the morning."

Quinn and Rachel drifted back into living room. The boys appeared to have stopped playing and were settle back into their seats. Rachel and Quinn met eyes and laughed as they both noticed the tears of pain in Mike's eyes and the fact that his hands were hovering protectively between his legs. "Serves you right" Quinn muttered as she dropped a kiss onto his forehead.

David was bounced around on the couch next to Puck, wearing wearing a tiny blue and orange jersey that matches his father's. "I wanna be a football player when I grow up Daddy."

"Football's in your blood kid. I'm sure we can convince your mom to let you play." David's head swiveled to look at Rachel expectantly. "Besides, there aren't nearly enough Jewish NFL players. Rex Grossman and Robbie Gould? Not Jewish. Just really lucky to have Jewish-sounding names." Rachel snorted to herself and settled back onto the couch next to her husband. This was getting kind of ridiculous.

"Now Sid Luckman," Mike interjected. "That's a quality Jewish player. He was an All-American and he led the Bears to 4 championships."

"And his name even sounds like mine!" David's face lit up.

"Damn straight it does." Puck grimaced at the look Rachel shot him as soon as the (relatively mild) curse left his mouth. "Besides, ladies love football players. Uncle Mike and I both played football, and look at how pretty our ladies are."

David bounced over to Rachel and snuggled into her lap. "Is that true? Did you marry daddy because he was a football player?"

Rachel rolled her eyes, both at the question and at the ridiculous grin her husband was flashing at her. "Sure baby. That's the reason."


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: More Puckleberry family loving! As usual, nothing belongs to me and reviews are love!**

****

**

* * *

**

"Mooooooommmmmmmyyyyy!"

David's sad little voice pierced Rachel's heart as she hurried up the stairs from the kitchen, balancing a pitcher of cool water in one hand and a plate of saltines in the other. "I'm coming baby!"

Using her hip to bump the door open, Rachel stepped into her son's dark room. Her son was curled up in a ball in his pajamas, caught in the grip of a nasty stomach flu that Rachel was sure he had contracted from that little Adler girl at his play group. Refilling the glass of water on the bedside table, she turned on the bedside lamp and sat down on David's bed.

"How are you feeling baby?"

David moaned again and curled up against Rachel's lap. "My tummy feels icky."

"I know honey" Rachel cooed quietly, smoothing her palm over her son's damp forehead. "Mommy's trying to make you feel better."

"Rachel?" A voice came drifting across the hall. "I need you. Like, right now."

"Have I told you that you're my favorite patient in this house, David?" Rachel leaned over and kissed her son's forehead before getting up and heading across the hallway.

"Raaaayychel" Puck whined pathetically as he pushed the sheet off himself and threw his arm over his face. "I'm hot baby."

Rachel ticked an eyebrow up at the half-dressed man sprawled across their bed. "Nice to see that you're not too sick to be full of yourself."

Puck attempted to sit up and smirk at his wife, but only managed to prop himself up on one elbow before his stomach rolled violently and he had to flop backwards onto his pillow again. "Not what I meant babe. My head is pounding and I can't move without getting nauseous."

"You're laying on our bed in your underwear on a Saturday morning. How is this different than any other weekend?"

"Babe, you're my wife. You're supposed to take care of me. I know we're Jewish and all, but I'm pretty sure that the vows still apply. In sickness and health and all that other crap."

"And I'm pretty sure there was no point in our wedding when Rabbi Greenberg asked me to vow to take care of you when you were hung over."

"Pretty please Rach?" Puck stuck out his lower lip and tried to look as pathetic as possible.

Rolling her eyes, Rachel headed toward the door. "Let me know when you're ready to take your turn watching David. I've been up since you got home at 3 AM and could really use a nap."

When Puck woke up an hour later, there was a bottle of Gatorade and 2 aspirin sitting on top of a pink Post-It note. And when Rachel came down with David's stomach flu several days later, she made sure to keep yelling for Puck at every opportunity. Whenever he tried to complain that she was being too demanding, Rachel would point silently to the words scrawled she had attached the Post-It on the headboard.

_You took the vows too. Sucker. _


	4. Chapter 4

****

**A/N: We're going to pretend for the sake of this story that the whole Puck/Quinn/Beth thing never happened. As usual, I own nothing...although 3M probably owes me some sort of compensation for all the free shout-outs I'm giving to Post-Its in this story :)**

**

* * *

**

Puck is all about the baby-makin'. He likes to encourage Rachel to practice at every chance, and one might even say that he's somewhat of an expert since Rachel was pregnant within a month of their wedding. If they gave an award for dedication to the craft, Puck likes to think that he would win every time.

The baby-havin' is another story. That shit is nasty. When Rachel found out that she was pregnant with David, she popped the surprise by handing him a copy of "What To Expect When You're Expecting" marked with color-coded Post-It notes and told him to start reading. Puck made it through the first 10 pages before giving up and deciding that he was going to focus on being the best damn Lamaze coach he could be. Less messy and it would keep him focused on Rach and not on how much he wanted to go Deathstar on all the strangers who would be getting all up in his wife's lady-business.

Puck was elated when Chang finally got his shit together and impregnated Quinn. Rachel and Quinn loved discussing all that pregnancy crap every time the two couples spent time together, so Puck felt it was well within his right to get together with the Changster to have manly pregnancy talk. _("Dude. Whatever you do, do NOT look anywhere below Q's waist when she's having the kid. Just don't do it. You'll never recover.")_

The Puckerman family had just gotten home from the hospital. Quinn had given birth to a baby girl named Lizzie that morning with the help of Rachel and Mrs. Fabray in the delivery room. Puck and David had stayed in the waiting room with Mike. Dude had passed out at the sight of the epidural needle, and once he came around the nurse politely asked him to leave the delivery room so as not to place any more stress on his wife. Once Puck stopped making fun of him and drifted off for a nap, Mike took on the duty of answering David's never ending stream of questions (_"How did Auntie Quinn get pregnant?" "Um, from loving me too much." "But how will the baby get out?" "Magic little dude. Now how about we go get some Skittles from the vending machine and see how many we can throw into your dad's mouth before he wakes up?")_

"Noah," Rachel's voice drifted out of the bathroom as Puck came into their bedroom after putting David to bed. "Can you get David's baby box out of the closet? I want to see if I still have some unused onesies to give to Quinn."

Puck hefted the large box off the top shelf of the closet and tossed it onto the bed. "Shit babe, this thing is heavy. You know you're not actually supposed to put the kid in the box, right?" As he lifted the lid off, Puck's eyes settled on a heavy silver frame holding a black and white photograph.

"See anything interesting?" Rachel leaned against the door frame with her toothbrush in one hand and a smile on her face.

"Um, Rachel. This is not funny. Are you..." Puck's eyes ricocheted back and forth between his wife and the sonogram he was holding. Rachel nodded.

Striding over to Rachel, Puck knelt down and tenderly pressed a kiss to her stomach. "Why didn't you say anything sooner?"

Rachel shrugged. "Didn't want to steal Quinn and Mike's thunder. Besides, I'm only 2 months. We have plenty of time to tell people."

"This is awesome babe. David is going to be an awesome big brother." Puck grabbed the toothbrush out of Rachel's hand and tossed it into the bathroom sink before pulling down onto the bed with him.

"Noah" Rachel put her hands on Puck's shoulders as he ran his hands up and down her side. "I know you had some, um, _issues_ with the more scientific and technical aspects of my pregnancy with David. This time, though, I'd really like it if you would come to the doctor with me and take an active role in my pregnancy."

Puck's face paled noticeably. "Issues? Don't know what you're talking about babe. I'm a science teacher, remember? Besides, I think I already took my _active role_. You wouldn't be knocked up if I hadn't taken an _active role."_

"Pregnancy is a beautiful experience, Noah. And as my loving husband, you should be willing to help me through the time leading up to the birth of our child. Even the messy parts."

Puck leaned over Rachel to turn off the light on the bedside table. "_Y_ou've got to stop talking about that shit if you want to be able to celebrate. I can't give you the full Puckerone experience if I'm nauseous."

Curling into her husband's side, Rachel peppered kisses up Puck's jawline before stopping to whisper into his ear. "Bloody show."

Rachel dissolved into giggles as Puck pushed Rachel away and raced for the bathroom. She couldn't wait for him to come back so she could break the news that his boss had already approved a day off on Monday so Puck could come to the doctor's appointment with her. And she had given Dr. Green very specific instructions to be as descriptive as possible.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Thanks again for all the reviews/alerts/favorites. They have been much-appreciated, especially because I've just kind of been messing around trying to get my writing groove back. As always, Glee sadly does not belong to me.**

**

* * *

**

The persistant tapping of tiny fingers on her knee broke Rachel out of the haze of working her way through a stack of bills at the kitchen table. "Yes baby?" she sighed, frowning at the cable bill.

"Mooommmmy." The tapping continued at a more frenetic pace.

Rachel sighed and turned sideways in her char to face her son. David peered up at her through a mess of dark curls. "Mommy, Uncle Mike and Daddy are fighting again. I just want to play the race game and they keep talking." He paused for a second before gesturing at Rachel to lean down so he could whisper into her ear. "And Daddy said a bad word. He tried to be quiet, but I heard it!"

"Seriously, again?" Rachel muttered. It scared her sometimes how much more mature her son was than the allegedly grown man she called her husband. Closing her laptop, Rachel followed him out of the kitchen and into the living room. David scrambled up onto the couch and stared at his mother expectantly as Rachel turned so she was standing in front of the monstrosity of a television. Puck had insisted on purchasing the damn thing the day after she told him that they were expecting again (_"Babe, if I'm going to be sitting up in the middle of the night again with a baby, I want to be able to watch Sportscenter on a 65" Plasma while I'm doing it." "That's cute that you think that you're going to be the one getting up.")_

"Dude. My house, my choice." Puck stretched an arm out to take a sip of beer and lazily scratched his back. "Give it up idiot."

Mike glared at him. "But you got first choice last time. It's my turn."

Rolling her eyes, Rachel grabbed one of the controllers off the table and wordlessly sank down onto the arm of the couch. Pushing a few buttons, she nodded with a smirk and handed the controller down to David.

"There. Now neither of you children gets to be Princess Peach. Now for the sake of my son's entertainment and my own sanity, would you two idiots just play the game do I can get my work done?" She hefted herself up and headed back toward the kitchen, stopping only to smack Puck lightly on the side of the head. "Stop swearing," she muttered through gritted teeth.

Puck leaned his head backwards over the top of the couch and stared at his wife. "Geez Rach. You're lucky that you're cute when you're bossy." Blowing her a kiss, he grabbed his controller from the cushion next to him and unpaused the game. "Dibs on Wario!"

"Aw come on Puck. You know he's my second favorite!"


End file.
